In Love Again
by tromana
Summary: Nina has harrowing secrets she doesn't want to reveal, she has only ever been in love once. Then she meets Jack. Complete.


**Title: **In Love Again**  
****Author:** tromana**  
****Rating:** T**  
****Pairing: **Nina/Jack**  
****Spoilers: **None**  
****Summary: **Nina has harrowing secrets she doesn't want to reveal, she has only ever been in love once. Then she meets Jack.**  
****Disclaimer: **I do not own anything to do with Neighbours. Unfortunately.**  
****Notes: **This was written a while back. I think I completed it December '06 or something. Thought I'd just post it on here now.**  
****WARNINGS: **Deals with depression, lonliness and has a death in it. Well it opens up with it. Rating is purely for that.

**In Love Again**

_The day my son died, I thought my life had ended too. He was the only person I'd truly loved throughout my turbulent childhood, the only one who loved me back unconditionally. What was there to live for anyway? His father and I were never in love. I was young, naive. He was twice my age, too good for me I thought at the time. The day he slept with me, he disappeared. He promised me everything a fourteen year old could want at the time, so it was unsuprising that I'd been sucked in, with such little life experience. At first, he represented something I craved for entirely - a father figure._

__

My father disregarded me from the moment I was born - as far as he was concerned I was worth nothing. He held little to no interest in me - why would he? I wasn't the precious son he craved for. Despite this treatment, I worshipped the ground he walked on and was forever trying to impress him one way or another. Mum constantly begged me to behave, to please him somehow, anyhow. As a child I always believed that it was I who was in the wrong, so I guess it was unsuprising that I went off the rails before my eleventh birthday. Perhaps if my Dad paid attention to me during those precious childhood years, maybe I'd never have gotten into such a mess. Then again, if I hadn't I may have never met Jack.

Jack Scully is the only man who has ever seen me as his equal, not judged me, or my past - even though it took me what felt like an eternity. He was the one who understood me and my needs, had the patience of a saint and managed to make me feel human again. However that is at the end of my story so far, and we have just begun...

My mother has very often told me the story of the day I was born. The way she phrased it, it always made it seem that I was lucky to be alive, especially with no serious health problems. When I was small, she always said she was deeply proud of me, that I was her perfect little girl. The amount she said this however, decreased steadily as I grew older, until she too was channelling my Dad's discontentment. However, that is for another time.

The evening before, or so I was told, was a sweltering hot summer's day. Mum had been left on her own, eight months pregnant. She has never told me where my Dad was that evening - I used to believe it was because he was working hard to support us. In retrospect, I'm more inclined to believe he was having an affair as he seems to be the type to have problems with commitment. This doesn't mean I don't respect the man - I guess it's purely due to the fact that he is my father that I have the inability to switch such emotions off. However, Mum had been in the kitchen when her contractions started. Initially, she ignored them, believing them to be Braxton hicks. It wasn't until it had continued for more than two hours that she realised that I was ready to make my way into the world.

It was a neighbour who found her in labour, limping up the street. She called the ambulance and waited with Mum until it arrived. She left when she knew Mum was safely in the back. I do remember seeing her a few times, naturally Mum had a huge amount of respect for her. However, most memories of this person who may have guaranteed my survival is incorporated with my father. I can remember her and my Dad having blazing arguments in the street, but I'm too young to know all the details. Mum did tell me when I was older she knew about my Dad's affair with her and was almost certain it was she who he spent the night I was born with. She turned a blind eye because the woman 'saved our lives'. If it wasn't for her, neither of us would be here.

Words normally failed her by then. Or she would change the subject quite swiftly. All I know is that it was complicated. She was left unable to conceive again, which devastated her. It's probably why she focussed so much energy on me as an infant, before my father once again distracted her attention from me. Sometimes, when she's feeling more like herself, she'll phone up and apologise for my loss of childhood. I don't blame her really, it was I who made most of the foolish mistakes. They were just fuelled with my frustrations for them.

_Christmas is always the hardest time of year for me. Not only do I have to contend with all the mantras about it being the time of year to spend with family, but it is also filled with too many dark memories. You see, it always seems to be the time when I feel at my lowest. Or rather, when the worst seems to happen to me._

_I met Liam the October before my fourteenth birthday, when he was twenty-seven. I have no idea how, but somehow I managed to persuade him that I was eighteen. I guess it helped that I've always been tall for my age, but still that's a pretty difficult task. It didn't take long for him to persuade me to sleep with him. And it wasn't long after my first time that it became a regular occurence between the two of us. The three months we were together, I felt like I had a new lease of energy and that someone actually cared for me for a change. I guess in reality he was only using me for sex, especially as he assumed I was overage._

_It was a shock to the system to say the least when, on Christmas Day of all days, I discovered I was pregnant. I had had a hunch about it for a week or so before, but it had taken me a week to find the confidence to take the test I had brought at the chemist 'on behalf of my mother'. I told Mum I was feeling unwell that day, so that I could let Liam know first. The moment he found out - two days later - his first and only reaction was 'get rid of it'. I never heard from him again._

_Telling my parents was also a nightmare. An abortion was out of the question. As far as Mum was concerned, it was a life and it deserved a chance to live, and to be honest I agreed with that point of view. My Dad's more cynical agreement was that 'the little whore got herself into the mess so she isn't going to take the cop out'. He never said so much to my face, but said so to Mum, multiple times._

_However, that isn't the only reason that Christmas is a problem for me. The day is particularly magical for children. My son was mesmerised by his first. By the end of the day of his second, he was dead.  
_

The sixteen months I spent with Benjamin Alexander Tucker were absolute bliss. Despite being so young, I threw myself into motherhood and surpassed everyone's expectations. For once in my life, I actually had a purpose instead of feeling like I was just in the way. One thing I was certain I wanted was that Ben knew he was loved. I was absolutely determined to ensure he wasn't rejected the way I was in my younger years.

Even though I guess I would be classified as being biased, he really was a beautiful little boy. Round, inquisitive blue eyes were framed with soft blonde curls. I'm almost certain I achieved my desire because he always had a smile reserved for me – but he was certainly less than fond of my father. Every milestone he reached, I could feel myself bursting with pride. Especially his first word - Mama. The first time I truly felt wanted as well as needed.

Naturally his death is something I will always blame myself for, however many people tell me not to. The moment I noticed the rash on his tiny body, I was horrified. Even more so, when I realised it wouldn't disappear under the pressure of a glass. It took a long while to persuade my parents that I wasn't over exaggerating it and to get them to take us to the hospital. When we finally got there, they told me what I already knew – that my precious little boy had meningitis. They tried their best, but it had got too far. At 9pm on December 25th, he died peacefully in my arms.

_Before his ashes had barely settled – spread under his favourite tree in our back garden, my mother informed me I was to be moving to Erinsborough, in Melbourne. I had never left Sydney before, never mind the state so that was a shock in itself. She told me that I had to sort myself out, give myself a new life. At sixteen, I'd proved myself more than capable of being able to look after myself so I was to go on my own but they'd support me so I could continue with my studies in Erinsborough High. I guess this was their way of getting me out of their sight now there was nothing to keep me there anymore. Besides, they had been offered the 'chance of a lifetime'. Before I was born, they were singers. And their cabaret act had just been offered a chance to tour Europe._

_When I arrived at the small semi-detached house on Heather Street, I didn't really know what the future held for me. Would I go off the rails again? Parental supervision hadn't stopped me beforehand, or would I actually give myself a future now? After unpacking my modest belongings, including a keyboard, which I insisted upon bringing along and a photograph of Ben which went pride of place on the mantelpiece, I headed out to see what this town held for me._

_Susan Kennedy, Principal of the school commented on my shyness immediately, something which I had never been called before. After giving me a reading list and uniform requirements, she introduced me to Michelle Scully. If I knew now it would be her who would introduce me to the person who would rescue me, maybe I would have felt more gratitude to this bubbly character who shadowed me for the rest of the day, introducing me to other people and showing me around my new school._

After a couple of months, I continued staying with Michelle and her friends, although I never breathed a word about my history or Ben. I guess I didn't want them to reject me the way that my parents had. It wasn't that I was ashamed that I had become a parent so young, but I didn't want their preconceptions getting in the way. Besides, none of them ever seemed to feel the need to question me about my past, above the fact that my parents were cabaret singers, who had gone back on tour overseas so I was living on my own.

Taj Coppin had taken particular interest in me. This surprised me, especially as I had gone totally back into my shell since losing Ben and moving to Erinsborough but I was flattered nevertheless. He was insistent, constantly offering to take me out on dates and eventually caved in the day Jack Scully arrived in Erinsborough.

My relationship with Taj however, was short lived. After two or three dates, he was already pressurising me to sleep with him. Unlike my only previous relationship, where I pretty much jumped at the chance, I panicked and called an end to it immediately. Besides, whenever I was with Taj I never felt I understood him, felt more distant with him than I did with any of the others and my heart wasn't in it. I was still grieving for my son and he was just wrong for me.

_It also took me by surprise when Michelle's older brother, Jack, asked me to join him for a coffee one day, alone. Michelle had arranged last minute plans with her boyfriend, so when I called round on a Saturday afternoon expecting to go swimming to be greeted by this offer it was a shock to the system._

_I accepted his offer, but still didn't understand why he was paying attention to me. He rarely saw his sister's friends and since arriving in Erinsborough, I had been quieter than most. Nevertheless, something reassured me in the way he spoke gently to me, and smiled sincerely. For the first time in the nine months I'd been living there, I was actually enjoying myself and genuinely at ease in his company. The afternoon sped by and when he said he wanted to see me again, I was thrilled to say yes._

_Jack never pressurised me into telling me anything about my past, however desperately curious he got. Slowly, as I grew to trust him I let him know about my strained relationship with my mother and everything my father had put me through up to a point. I never touched anything from the age thirteen upwards, I still hadn't come to terms with it myself, so there was no way I was ready to talk about it. Not even with the only man I had ever allowed myself to trust in any form._

It wasn't until we had been dating for six months before Jack even mentioned the subject of sex. Naturally, I had a total reluctance to even talk about it comfortably, never mind feel ready to give myself over to someone that way so soon after the loss of Ben. Unfortunately, he read this as me being a virgin, and for a while I was happy to let him believe that. It gave me longer to mourn for my son.

After another two months of total refusal to even discuss it, I could tell it was hurting Jack that I was rejecting him so actively without actually explaining why. Truth be told, the two months I had spent constantly thinking of ways to approach the subject with him. Even the most sensitive explanations made me certain I would lose him forever, which I knew would destroy me. I could only think of two people who had ever really made me feel totally loved – and they were Ben and Jack. I'd lost one and I didn't want to lose the other.

However, I knew that if I didn't tell him the truth sooner rather than later, that would make more damage and telling him in the immediate future would mean I would be less likely to lose him than if I held back for longer. It would be painful, but I needed to tell other people one day, and if there was one person I trusted, and loved, it was him.

_Explaining to Jack those two years was probably more painful than even he could imagine. I have never felt more cheap and ashamed of myself than telling him my darkest secrets. Yet, at the same time, I've always been proud of my son so I was being presented with a barrage of conflicting emotions._

_Most of me was expecting Jack to want nothing to do with me anymore. I guess having my father as the only other prominent male figure in my life to base this on, it's hardly surprising that I was immediately expecting him to reject me, like many others probably would. So when he leaned across his kitchen table, took hold of my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze and told me how proud of me he was, I just stared at him through teary eyes totally confused. He smiled, and repeated it, only adding that he loved me to the end. I could only reply with 'I love you too'._

_For once, someone understood my actions in a way that no one else would have. He understood why I wanted to wait a while longer and helped me finally come to terms with losing my son. It was then I was ready to give myself to him completely. My actions may have been foolish but mistakes have to be made to learn from them. And without taking the paths I did, I may never have met Jack._

end


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